


This Ghostly Business

by Atisenia



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: BAMF Peggy Carter, Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Investigations, Stark's Inventions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 09:38:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atisenia/pseuds/Atisenia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peggy and Jarvis join forces again to find the last of Stark's inventions still causing problems in the criminal world. They chase after ghosts, tease each other and combat harmful assumptions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Ghostly Business

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NothingSerious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NothingSerious/gifts).



> Written for [iwouldratherbeelsewhere](http://iwouldratherbeelsewhere.tumblr.com) on tumblr who wanted a story about Peggy and Jarvis with this line: "Looking at her, he realized that he didn't really want to know the answer after all." (prompt from [here](http://writeworld.org/post/102611462110/looking-at-her-he-realized-that-he-didnt-really)).  
> This is my first time writing for the _Agent Carter_ fandom. I hope I did these characters some justice. Any thoughts on the matter would be more than welcome.:) I'm also not a native English speaker, so if you see any glaring mistakes, please let me know.:)

Having a boss who did not understand sacred marital duties was terribly inconvenient. Nine o'clock came and went, and Jarvis was still out, doing Mr Stark's bidding. The temptation was there to remind Mr Stark of the terms and conditions of their agreement, but it would seem most ungrateful after Jarvis had nearly blown Mr Stark to pieces.

At least he saved a pleasant task for last. Maybe he would even stay for tea and drink it in a lovely company. His spirits lifted, Jarvis rang the doorbell and straightened his waistcoat, making sure there were no buttons missing.

The door swung open, followed by distant laughter.

"Mr Jarvis!" Miss Carter greeted him with a smile.

"Good Lord, Miss Carter!" Jarvis said, nearly tripping over his briefcase. "What on earth happened?"

Miss Carter rolled her eyes at him and opened the door wider so he could enter.

"Oh, don't sound so alarmed. Angie and I are having a girls' night."

A girls' night? Jarvis stared at Miss Carter with disbelief, taking in her hair, braided in a lovely manner on one side and teased on the other. There were tiny feathers hanging miserably from the destroyed locks and something that looked suspiciously like a paper tiara half-lost in the mess. The usual tasteful makeup was now exaggerated to the extreme and smudged over Miss Carter’s face, making her look like she’d been in a fight. The dark circle around her right eye could have just easily been a bruise from a fist fight.

“I wasn’t aware that you require a special invitation,” Miss Carter said, half amused and half exasperated. “Do I need to go and fetch my nice stationery?”

“No, no, that... would be quite... unnecessary,” Jarvis said, finally walking into the flat, his eyes still fixed on Miss Carter. “May I just ask... what is it that you’re wearing?”

Miss Carter looked down at herself, as if in need of a reminder.  She was wearing a suit that may or may not have belonged to Mr Stark, with a slight improvement of being torn in a couple of places. From the looks of it, she had a pillow secured to her stomach, over which hung a greasy tie. She rolled her eyes with a small smile.

“Angie wanted to practice. This is her idea of a bad guy, apparently,” Miss Carter said with a shrug.

Which probably made sense to her, but Jarvis found himself even more confused. Was this truly what women found entertaining when they were left to their own devices? Looking at her, he realized that he didn’t really want to know the answer after all.

“Miss Carter,” he started and cleared his throat. “May I trouble you for a cup of tea?”

"Of course," she said. "And do you prefer it with sugar or the good old arsenic?"

"Miss Carter, honestly!" Jarvis exclaimed.

“Oh, shush! I need to stay in character,” she said and disappeared in the kitchen, cementing Jarvis’ decision to never ever ask about a girls’ night. “Are you going to stand there all night, Mr. Jarvis?”

He huffed and followed Miss Carter to the kitchen. She had two fine teacups ready and was watching the water.

“I do actually have a purpose in coming here tonight,” Jarvis said, putting his briefcase next to the table and sitting on one of the chairs.

“Mm... I knew it couldn’t be a simple social call,” Miss Carter said, raising an eyebrow at him. The effect was somewhat diminished by her disastrous makeup, but Jarvis still felt guilty. He cleared his throat.

“Yes, well... I have been busy, you know.”

“I have no doubt.” Miss Carter smirked. “What is it that Howard wants this time? And why didn’t _he_ come to tell me about it? It’s not like he’s in hiding anymore.”

“Well...” Jarvis drawled and cleared his throat again.

“Mr Jarvis...” Miss Carter started, narrowing her eyes. “Is Howard accused of treason _again_?”

The exasperation in her voice almost made him smile.

“No, no. No treason charges, thank goodness,” Jarvis assured her. “Mr. Stark _is_ however in hiding.”

Miss Carter stared at him long enough for the water to boil. She reached for a teapot, which gave Jarvis a much needed opportunity to compose himself.

“Good God, this man!” Miss Carter exclaimed. “Did he sleep with another assassin? Because I might just officially kill him if he did!”

“As much as it pains me to admit it’s still a possibility...” Jarvis started. Miss Carter huffed and rolled her eyes. “No woman Mr Stark... entertained... since our Russian friend turned out to be an assassin.”

“Knowing our luck, she’s just waiting for the right opportunity,” Miss Carter muttered. “Why is Howard in hiding then?”

Jarvis shifted in his seat.

“Well,” he started. “He might have entertained a woman with connections to the criminal world. They seem very... displeased with the way Mr Stark treated her.”

“Oh, for—”

“Peg?” a cheerful voice called. “Are you going to show me that move now or what?”

No, Jarvis decided, he really didn’t want to know what a girls’ night entailed.

Miss Martinelli strode confidently into the kitchen. She wore suit trousers — which also may or may not have belonged to Mr Stark — and a nice shirt. Her hair was gathered in a practical ponytail and the only visible makeup was a tasteful lipstick applied.

“Oh! And isn’t that Mr Fancy?” she said with a huge grin.

Jarvis made an indignant noise and expected some help from Miss Carter, but she only smiled softly at Miss Martinelli.

“Would you like some tea?” Miss Carter asked.

“Nah. You probably have some Important Stuff to discuss.” Jarvis could actually hear the capital letters. “But bring him with you later, English. He’ll make a nice hostage.”

“I beg your pardon!” Jarvis exclaimed but Miss Martinelli had already left the kitchen.

“She’s just joking,” Miss Carter said. “Probably.”

“That’s very reassuring,” Jarvis muttered.

Miss Carter sent him an amused look and poured tea into the teacups. She handed one to Jarvis, which he accepted gratefully.

“What is it then that Howard wants this time, Mr Jarvis?” Miss Carter asked. She seemed to forget the state of her face because she rubbed at the bridge of her nose. She grimaced when her fingers came away smudged in black.

“Well, you recall the unfortunate matter of Mr Stark’s stolen inventions.”

“It rings a bell, yes,” Miss Carter said and sent him an unimpressed look. Perhaps he did deserve the sarcasm. “I also seem to remember that he was going to destroy them.”

Jarvis cleared his throat.

“Yes. Of course,” he said. Miss Carter stared him down until he was forced to drink some tea to cover his embarrassment. “Though there’s also the matter of the items that had been sold on the black market.”

Miss Carter let out an exasperated huff.

“Of course,” she pinched the bridge of her nose again. “I can’t trust Howard to do _anything_ on his own, it seems.”

“Yes, well... Mr Stark asked me to assure you, Miss Carter, that he dealt with all but one threats, and the remaining one is nothing like the Midnight Oil.”

Miss Carter stood up with a heavy sigh and leaned her hands on the table.

“That could mean absolutely anything!” she exclaimed. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, then she took a few deep breaths and looked back at Jarvis. “Okay, what is it?”

“It’s... well,” Jarvis started. “It was supposed to work as a kind of projector for three dimensional pictures. Like photography, only... in three dimensions. But it started acting up a bit.”

Miss Carter took the sketch Jarvis gave her and frowned.

“I really don’t want to know what it is that Howard would need a projection for. However, I admit that I don’t quite understand why this thing going missing would be a problem.”

She looked at Jarvis with raised eyebrows.

“Right,” he said. “Well, let’s say that whoever happens to be caught between the projector and the projection suffers dire consequences.”

“How dire?”

“Lethal, I’m afraid.”

Miss Carter sighed and returned the sketch.

“Well then, Mr Jarvis,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you first thing tomorrow. Unless you’d like to stay and play a hostage...”

Jarvis quickly stood up and gathered his briefcase.

“As tempting as that offer is, I fear I must decline,” he said and didn’t miss the amused smirk on Miss Carter’s face. “May I ask what’s the plan?”

“Oh, that’s quite simple, I believe,” Miss Carter told him. “We’ll search for people who were killed by ghosts.”

 

***

 

When Jarvis appeared in Miss Carter’s residence, Miss Carter was already waiting for him, thankfully dressed in her usual fashion, not a hair out of place. She nodded and grabbed her bag, following him out of the house.

“How much time do you have, Miss Carter?” Jarvis asked when they were comfortably seated in the car.

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” Miss Carter waved her hand. “I cleared my schedule with the S.S.R. I can take all the time I want.”

Jarvis looked at her, taken aback.

“And Agent Thompson is all right with that?” he asked.

She turned to face him with a satisfied smile.

“You know, Mr Jarvis, the great thing about being good at your job is that you actually have a better bargaining position,” Miss Carter said. “Of course, beating up a whole lot of agents was also very useful.”

“Splendid,” Jarvis muttered. “Are we going to resort to violence from now on?”

“Are we going to get anywhere today?”

Jarvis sighed to make his displeasure known, but he finally started the car and drove them to the police station that Miss Carter indicated. Before he even had the chance to properly park his car, Miss Carter was out and walking towards the building. He rushed after her, peeved by the dismissal.

When he entered the station, Miss Carter was just coming to the front desk, getting the attention of the officer on duty.

"Hello, darling," the man said. Jarvis winced at the tone and words both. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, since you ask..." Miss Carter started and showed the man her badge. "I'm with the S.S.R.— "

"Sure you are, love," the officer said in that terribly indulgent way people used while speaking to children. Jarvis didn't quite appreciate the man's attitude and he was going to made it known.

"Oh, I am terribly sorry, sir!" Miss Carter said before he could react. Jarvis frowned at the overly apologetic note in her voice. It wasn't like her to just let things like this go. "I didn't know you had trouble seeing from afar. Do you need to fetch your reading glasses or do you want me to hold the badge closer for you?"

The officer's jaw worked for a while before he took the badge from her and examined it carefully. He looked back at Miss Carter with a sour expression.

"So what can I do for you, Miss?" he asked, visibly forcing himself to get the words out this time.

"I need to see everything you have about people being killed by ghosts in the last... let's see... two months should be sufficient." She paused and straightened her back for effect. "And it's 'Agent'."

"Right," the officer bit out. "One moment, please."

He disappeared farther into the station, which Jarvis took as his cue to join Miss Carter by the desk.

"I think you handled that man quite well," he said.

"Why thank you," Miss Carter said drily. "I wasn't aware I needed your approval. Tell me, Mr Jarvis, were you about to step in and defend my honour?"

"Well..."

"I can handle myself quite well, thank you!" she said, annoyed.

"Trust me, Miss Carter, I'm well aware of that," Jarvis said. "I just don't like it when people don't treat you with the respect you deserve."

Miss Carter sent him a small smile and was about to say something when a hurried looking man appeared behind the desk. He looked between Jarvis and Miss Carter and nodded to himself.

"Good morning, Agent," he addressed Jarvis. Miss Carter sighed heavily next to him. "I'm Inspector Wallace. Rob tells me you want to know about this silly ghost business?" He glanced at Miss Carter. "Do you think you've seen a ghost, love?" he asked her gently.

"Why? Because I'm a woman and we are prone to seeing things that aren’t there?" Miss Carter asked, shocking Wallace into stunned silence. "Do you think me hysterical, Inspector?"

"I... er..." Wallace cleared his throat and looked at Jarvis for help. Well, he wasn't going to get it from him.

" _Agent_ Carter here is investigating this case," he said, motioning towards Miss Carter. The man's eyebrows nearly flew up his forehead. "I'm basically just the driver."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short, Mr Jarvis," Miss Carter said with a touch of humour in her voice. "You're also excellent at fabricating confessions."

Jarvis sighed and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I'm never going to live it down, am I?"

Miss Carter sent him a look that conveyed the 'not likely' message quite well. Then she turned to Wallace.

"Here's my badge," she said, pushing it into the man's unmoving fingers. "Inspect it at your leisure, if you like, but I'm rather on a tight schedule. Everything you have about deaths by ghosts please, and quickly."

Wallace recovered enough to blink down at the badge. He visibly composed himself.

"Right," he said weakly. "This way."

He led them further into the station. Their sudden appearance drew some curious and confused looks from the policemen they were passing. Wallace stopped in front of the archives and turned to face them, a frown firmly on his face.

“Right. Well. We don’t really have any details written down,” he said, automatically looking at Jarvis. “These people came here, talking utter nonsense about ghosts and the wrath of God and the end of all days... We didn’t take them seriously, of course,” he added, looking at Jarvis to support him. Jarvis refused to be a part of this though.

“Nevertheless, you shouldn’t have just dismissed people like this,” he said.

Wallace startled, not expecting the chastisement.

“But really... ghosts? That’s ridiculous!” he exclaimed, his eyes darting from Miss Carter to Jarvis, unsure.

Jarvis was about to tell him off for not doing his job properly, when Miss Carter decided it was time to end this nonsense.

“Of course it’s ridiculous,” she said. Jarvis sent her a surprised look. “It doesn’t mean you can ignore it. It might not be ghosts killing all these people, Inspector, but haven’t you even asked yourself _why_ there are witnesses who claim to have seen it?”

“Well, they were obviously seeing things,” Wallace bit out and glared at Miss Carter.

“Or there’s someone out there who wants you to think that, and who is now getting away with... how many murders?”

Wallace cleared his throat and looked anywhere but at Miss Carter.

“We don’t know,” he admitted grudgingly.

Miss Carter pursed her lips, clearly displeased.

“So you have nothing for me?” she asked.

“We have records of people reporting the so-called murders. Names and addresses.”

“But... why would you have them in the first place?” Jarvis asked, starting to get really annoyed with the inspector. “Haven’t you just said that you didn’t take these people seriously?”

Wallace sighed deeply and crossed his arms.

“They were talking about people getting killed by ghosts. What else were we supposed to do but keep their records? They are clearly dangerous people.”

Miss Carter huffed, getting Wallace’s attention.

“Lovely,” she muttered with a fake smile. “Now, can I have a list of these so-called dangerous people? We shall do your job for you and quickly determine who’s the real threat here.”

Wallace grumbled but, after a moment, disappeared among the archives. Presumably to search for the pertinent information. Possibly to vanish and evade responsibility.

“I feel safer already,” Jarvis commented, which made Miss Carter snort.

“Don’t worry, Mr Jarvis,” she said. “I will keep an eye on you.”

“That would be greatly appreciated, Miss Carter.”

She fixed him with a stare, as if expecting Jarvis to mock her. He was completely sincere though.

"Here you go," Wallace said, emerging from the archives. He extended a file towards Jarvis who refused to take it. Wallace clenched his jaw and gave the file to Miss Carter.

"Wonderful," she said. "Now, could you possibly put together a list of the latest victims of this ghost business? I would be very much obliged."

Wallace's nostrils flared and he huffed, but then he disappeared in the archives again.

"Well, I certainly hope that he doesn't get the credit for all your hard work, Miss Carter."

"Our work," she corrected him. "Or are you planning to abandon me, Mr Jarvis?"

"No. No. I'm quite happy to provide whatever assistance you'll need."

Miss Carter smiled at him.

"Here," Wallace muttered, reappearing before them with a single piece of paper. "Can you leave now?"

Miss Carter lifted her eyebrow but accepted the paper without a comment.

"We'll leave you then, Inspector," she said. "Good day."

She strode out of the station with Jarvis closely following her, both of them attracting even more attention than before. Jarvis tried not to fidget under the judging stares. After all, he wasn't the one who should be embarrassed after this meeting. Miss Carter sent him an amused look just before they were in the entry hall again.

"A word of advice," Miss Carter said to the man at the desk. "It is usually not a good idea to underestimate people. You can accidentally get murdered by a lovely Russian girl or simply die of embarrassment when a sick, skinny guy you used to laugh at becomes a national hero. Just some food for thought."

She raised her eyebrows at him and left the building. Jarvis sent the stunned policeman a parting look and ran after her to the car.

"Where are we going?" he asked once they were both inside.

"Well, we have a list," Miss Carter said, opening the file on her lap. "Time to visit one Laura Tanner."

 

***

 

After visiting countless witnesses, they were nowhere near establishing who could be in possession of the invention in question. Most people they questioned were still traumatized by what they had seen. Which was apparently always a ghostlike figure appearing out of nowhere and a person dropping dead immediately after that.

At least there was a pattern to it regarding the place. It always happened in a mostly deserted area and had not yet targeted more than a single person.

"Thank God for that," Jarvis muttered when they left the latest house. Miss Carter shot him a look. "I'm not happy these people are getting killed. But after the last case..."

"Yes," Miss Carter said. "Yes, I suppose it is a relief to deal with single targets rather than massive hysteria."

Jarvis huffed.

"Who do we visit now?"

"I think it's time for Mr David Sanders."

"And where would he happen to live?"

"Actually, Mr Jarvis, he does not," Miss Carter told him nonchalantly. "We need to visit a funeral home."

 

***

 

It had taken Jarvis less than a minute to put funeral homes on his list of places that would be better avoided in the future. It appeared there proudly along with battlefields, Mr Stark’s workshop and that little cafe in Brooklyn that had the sketch of his face displayed on a wall. It felt a lot like a cemetery, only there was less finality to it. Jarvis almost expected the dead to get up and start walking around. He shivered.

A man — Larson — came to greet them, his demeanour too cheerful for comfort. Jarvis supposed working in such a place required some healthy distance to reality, but he still felt terribly uneasy in the man's presence.

"May I help you?" the man asked, looking from Jarvis to Miss Carter and back.

"That would be very kind of you," Miss Carter said, showing Larson her badge. "We'd like to see Mr Sanders for a moment, if it's not a bother."

The man frowned and stared at them in a confused silence.

"Of course," he said cautiously. "Are you from the family?"

"Oh, for the love of...!" Miss Carter exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. "No! We're with the S.S.R.! I have just shown you my badge!"

"Right," the man drawled, looking to Jarvis for help. Jarvis sighed and crossed his arms.

"I assure you, sir, that _Agent_ Carter here knows exactly what she's doing," he said. "I'm not so sure about you," he muttered quietly, only for Miss Carter to hear. She smirked.

"We have reasons to believe that Mr Sanders was murdered," she said. "You can either show us the body now and get rid of us or wait until I bother my superiors for an official warrant. I can tell you now that they're not exactly the fastest when it comes to these things, and the funeral would have to be delayed, of course, until I could get the warrant. Surely that would be more inconvenient for you than showing us the body now?"

The man blinked and then shrugged.

"Do as you like, Miss," he said. "Just... it's not an easy experience. I would hate it if you got overwhelmed."

Miss Carter sighed and passed the man on her way to the next room. Jarvis huffed.

"Trust me, sir," he said. "If anyone is going to faint here, it won't be Agent Carter."

Larson raised his eyebrows at him and followed Miss Carter to the next room. She was already standing by one of the open caskets in the room. Jarvis cautiously came closer and felt himself sway.

"Oh dear," he said and grabbed the nearest thing to steady himself. This thing happened to be another casket, so maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all.

Miss Carter raised an eyebrow at him.

"Really, Mr Jarvis?"

"It's this place, Miss Carter," he said, hesitantly coming closer. "They look like they might awake at any moment."

Miss Carter rolled her eyes.

"I know we are dealing with ghosts this time, but I wouldn't imagine you to take it so literally," she said.

Jarvis hummed noncommittally, ignoring the looks they were getting from Larson.

"What exactly do you want, people?" the man asked.

"This is Mr Sanders, am I correct?" Miss Carter pointed at the casket before her. The man nodded. "And how did he die?"

"Heart failure." Larson crossed his arms. "I'm sorry, but did you say ghosts?"

"Mr Jarvis, could you come here for a moment?" Miss Carter asked, ignoring the question. Jarvis sent a quick glance towards Larson and approached Miss Carter with a slight apprehension. She started unbuttoning Sanders’ shirt to Jarvis’ confusion and the other Larson's dismay.

“Ma’am,” he started sharply, coming closer. “What are you doing?”

Jarvis discovered that he felt much better focusing on the movement of Miss Carter’s fingers on the immobile chest of the dead man. It was easier to dismiss the oppressive air when she approached the problem with her usual efficiency.

“Do you see these marks?” Miss Carter asked, but Jarvis was still following her fingers. “Mr Jarvis?”

He shook his head a little to clear it and focused on what she was indicating. The other man also came closer, no doubt hoping to prevent some sort of disaster, and frowned down at Sanders’ left side. It was peppered with small dots, visible in contrast to the dead man's pale skin.

“Ah,” Jarvis let out a sigh that might have carried more meaning than he intended, for Miss Carter looked at him sharply.

“You know what these are?” she asked.

“Well...” Jarvis started and cleared his throat. “I know some things about it from Mr Stark, you see. He often shares his findings in a most... excited way; over shares, I would even say. There was this particularly gruesome case of—”

“Mr Jarvis,” Miss Carter interrupted him. “If you could please get to the point here?”

“Yes,” he said and cleared his throat again. “Yes, of course. It is believed that to create a projection we need a different kind of light than we currently have at our disposal. So—”

“—so Howard tempered with the light, that’s what you’re saying?” Miss Carter finished for him and Jarvis just shrugged. It was as good a guess as any. “So these? What _are_ these?”

“Well, I’m not actually Howard Stark, Miss Carter,” Jarvis said, earning himself a narrowed gaze. “But I think we can safely assume that it was not a simple heart attack.”

Miss Carter looked at the strange dots for a moment before she sighed and buttoned the shirt back up.

“As soon as this is finished, I’m going to have words with Howard,” she muttered.

They left the funeral home, leaving behind a very confused man who just kept staring down at Sanders’ body. Jarvis could sympathise with him; ghosts and image projections probably took time to assimilate.

“If we’re able to find out who would want to kill Sanders, we might just solve this case yet,” Miss Carter said before getting into the car.

Jarvis blinked at her and took the driver’s seat.

“And how do we do that?” he asked.

“I suppose we could start with questioning his wife,” Miss Carter said with a smile. “I looked up the address when he wasn’t looking.”

“You know, Miss Carter,” Jarvis said after starting the car. “I’m quite pleased that you are on our side.”

Miss Carter’s grin widened and she told him the address.

 

***

 

They learned nothing useful from Sanders' wife. She reacted with righteous fury at the mere mention of possible connection to the criminal world. The man's brother, however, was a different story. As soon as he realized that whatever killed his brother could also affect him, he started talking about gambling debts and organized crime. It was a bit disappointing, Jarvis thought, that Mr Stark's invention fell into the hands of common criminals.

"Cheer up, Mr Jarvis," Miss Carter told him on their way to the most unsavoury of places. "At least there won't be a threat of another war this time."

"Well, that is something," Jarvis admitted reluctantly and pulled up in front of a seedy looking bar.

Miss Carter sent him a look from under her raised eyebrows and loaded her gun.

"Come on then," she said and got out of the car.

Jarvis stumbled after her — touched, despite himself, by the simple inclusion. There was no way he could keep up with Miss Carter, but he was pleased to see that she trusted him to have her back. Though preferably there wouldn't be a need.

They entered the bar and all the eyes automatically went to them. They did look out of place and it was only going to get worse.

"Are you lost, love?" one of the patrons asked Miss Carter, an ugly grin plastered to his face.

"Oh, well that depends, you see," she said sweetly. "I'm looking for a device that kills people. Do you happen to have one?"

A couple of guns were pulled out from hiding places and trained on them.

"Oh dear," Jarvis murmured.

"Does this answer your question?" another man asked and laughter followed.

Miss Carter sighed and signalled Jarvis to take cover. He promptly hid behind a pillar.

“Not quite,” Miss Carter said and kicked the gun out of the first guy’s hand.

Before any of the men could react, Miss Carter ducked below the round table two of them sat at and turned it over. They were not expecting it and so they fell to the ground, sending another table back and distracting its occupants. Another gun fired but missed the target in the chaos, the bullet hitting the pillar instead. Jarvis peaked out from his hiding spot and cursed in his thoughts when he saw the bartender searching for his own gun.

The only other man in the room, not currently occupied with the falling tables, stood up from his chair and aimed his gun at Miss Carter. She pursed her lips and got down on the floor, where she kicked the man’s legs from under him. Before he could react, she took away his gun and hit him on the head with it, rendering him unconscious.

When she looked up to assess the situation, two men advanced, angry snarls on their faces. Miss Carter lifted their unconscious colleague and threw him at them, then immediately ducked behind the nearest table. The bartender got a hold of his gun and started shooting, but he only managed to hit wood, though he was very close to hitting his partners. Miss Carter took the gun she’d appropriated and pushed it towards Jarvis on the floor. He took it and engaged in a shooting match with the bartender.

The man Miss Carter disarmed first found his gun and aimed it at her. She grabbed a chair and threw it at him. The gun flew away and the man fell behind the table.

The two men from before managed to shake off their unconscious companion and one of them started shooting at Miss Carter. She ducked behind her table and waited for them to approach. Then she quickly grabbed the hand that was holding the gun and twisted it. The gun fired into the ceiling, and then again towards the bar before Miss Carter wrestled it out. The other man tried to attack her, but she hit him in the solar plexus and then banged the men’s heads together. They fell to the floor, unconscious.

It left Miss Carter exposed. The bartender immediately turned to shoot her. Before he could do that, Jarvis followed Miss Carter’s example and threw a chair at him. This gave Miss Carter time to deal with the remaining two men, who soon joined their colleagues in their unconscious state.

Miss Carter tossed her hair back out of her face and marched behind the bar. The chair Jarvis had thrown at the bartender hit its target, but the man was still conscious, even though his nose appeared to be broken. Miss Carter lifted him by the collar of his shirt.

“The device?” she demanded.

The man whimpered and wiped some of the blood from under his nose.

“It’s in the back,” he said, pointing at a door next to the bar. Miss Carter nodded and let him fall to the floor.

“Mr Jarvis,” she said, ignoring the bartender's pained mewls. “Please make sure none of these men has a gun nearby. It would be terribly inconvenient after all this trouble.” She started walking towards the door but stopped with one hand on the handle. “And keep an eye on them until I notify the S.S.R. if you would.”

“Well, I do have all the weapons here,” he said, which made Miss Carter smile a little, before she disappeared behind the mysterious door.

The bartender squirmed and glared up at Jarvis, but the sight of two weapons in Jarvis' hands put a stop to any potential plans he might have. The rest of the men stayed firmly unconscious until Miss Carter returned with Mr Stark’s invention.

"I found a phone in the back," she said. "The S.S.R. is now aware of the situation and will notify the police."

"Splendid. And I assume we are to wait for them?"

"Only until they arrive." Miss Carter shrugged and adjusted her grip on the device. "Then we're going to have a much needed talk with Howard Stark."


End file.
